Abandon All Hope
by Rhino7
Summary: Post-LDtSL When he told her to jump, she was supposed to already know how high. But after two years of jumping, her legs were getting tired.


**Abandon All Hope**

**By Rhino7**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, its characters or storyline. This ficlet is mine, as are McCallister, Cooper, the Fractured Circle, and the Alliance. This idea came to me not long after the final chapter of **_**Lay Down the Salt Lines**_**, since I didn't have time to fully elaborate the change in McCallister's psyche at the end of it. This oneshot is my attempt to give her some well deserved limelight. I apologize if it's choppy. Work on **_**Silver Bullet to the Heart**_**, the third and final installment of the Mercy Trilogy, is underway. Enjoy!**

**..:-X-:..**

The soldier had been standing at the end of her desk for over a minute now.

Tabaeus finally set her pen down and looked up at him. "What?"

Private Cooper Jardin, one of Major General Leonhart's trainees, was standing there, a file of paper at least four inches thick in his arms, looking at her awkwardly. Tabaeus gave him full three seconds to answer, and when he didn't, she sighed.

"Are those for me?" She prompted, lifting a hand.

"N-no." He replied.

She looked up at him with sleep deprived eyes, "Then why are you bothering me?" She snatched up her pen again and finished scribbling her signature on the bottom of the report.

"They're supposed to go the Major General's office." Cooper said.

Tabaeus didn't look up. "Then waddle yourself into the elevator and go give them to him."

Cooper made an affirmative noise, but didn't move.

She pushed some of the papers into a file folder and set them in her outbox, which was depressingly small compared to her inbox. She was getting claustrophobic and restless in this tiny cubicle in the filing department. Ever since the Gen—since Sora—had been made an outlaw and Brigadier General Lockhart had resigned, all of the heaviest work fell on Major General Leonhart, who in turn re-absorbed McCallister as his subordinate, delegating the more tedious assignments to her.

"He's in his office, trust me." She said, taking another folder from her inbox and flipping it open.

Guh, she could barely breathe in this tiny excuse of an office and Cooper was standing in front of the air conditioner.

"I…er…" Cooper stammered.

"Sometime today, Cooper." Tabaeus skimmed the front of the report, groaning at the numerical figures laughing up at her.

"Is…I mean…are you sure…"

She looked up at him. "Sure of what? The Major General is the very last person to leave this forsaken little building every night, and I know that because I'm the second last to leave every night…So yes, I'm pretty damn sure that he's in his office."

"Oh." Cooper looked wrong footed. "Then…can I leave this with his secretary or something?"

"He doesn't have one." Tabaeus sighed in exasperation and stress. "Just go, he's not going to attack you for bringing a file."

Cooper didn't look so sure about that.

She looked at him, frowning. "He really won't."

Cooper bit his lower lip for a moment. "It's been…just two weeks since…the Brigadier General left and-"

"He's getting better." Tabaeus cut him off, narrowing her eyes. "We're not walking around on eggshells here. Find your balls, man."

"Well, of course YOU aren't walking around on eggshells." Cooper remarked smartly.

Tabaeus set her report down. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"The Major General actually likes you." Cooper's ears were red.

"Ha." Tabaeus snorted, " 'Like' is a strong word, here. 'Tolerate' is more like it. You're one of his, why do you think he won't tolerate you? You're still here, aren't you?"

"I just thought…since the General—"

Tabaeus narrowed her eyes again, "Just take him the damn file."

Cooper half turned but then looked back at her. "Is he really…getting better?"

Tabaeus saw the real anxiety in the private's eyes and sighed, standing. "Gimme the file. I'll do it." She snatched the stack from him. "Now get your pansy ass back to your department and do your job."

Cooper smirked. "You were one of his too, huh?"

Tabaeus glared, "I never stopped. I was just…reassigned for a while."

"Sure, sure." Cooper said, looking relieved now that he had been cut off the job of taking the file to the boss. "I'll see you later. Good luck."

She grunted and he left. Exhaling heavily, she looked down at the front of the folder. It was unmarked except for 'MG Leonhart' on the top. She swallowed, scooted out of the cubicle, and walked for the elevator.

It had been a Hellish two weeks since the incident in Twilight Town that left the General's seat empty and the Brigadier General's office vacant. The Council was buckling down on inter-worldly relations and putting pressure on Radiant Garden, as the Alliance's base world, to be proactive in finding the leader of the Fractured Circle. King Mickey was using all of his considerable power to keep the inter-worldly relations under control, but Radiant Garden fell completely in the General's domain, which, in his absence, fell on the Major General's shoulders, who already had enough on his plate as it was.

So the size and the weight of this file weren't surprising.

As the elevator rose, Tabaeus nibbled on a fingernail.

She hadn't heard about the Brigadier General's resignation until a few days after it happened. She had been too…distraught was a funny word, but it was the closest she could come up with. She had had to adjust to the fact that the Gen—that Sora—was a wanted man, that he didn't want her, and that it was her fault that he was on the run and unarmed.

While the Alliance was up to its elbows in that scandal, the Major General was being forced to work three positions at the same time. The Council wanted results and answers and they wanted them yesterday. So the Major General passed some of the workload onto Tabaeus, and of course she took it.

And all the while, she was working behind his back to help Sora.

She had only been placed under Sora's command because the Major General assigned her as such, and when he told her to jump, she was supposed to already know how high. But after two years of jumping, her legs were getting tired.

The elevator chimed as it reached the floor and the doors slid open.

Tabaeus steeled herself and stepped out into the hallway. If she was tired from her turmoil with Sora and his betrayal, the Major General was downright crippled.

But it was not her place to say that.

Carrying the file to his office, she was unsurprised to find the door closed, probably locked. Pausing, she glanced to the other door, the Brigadier General's office, closed and locked, the lights off, empty, unused. The Major General was the only one working on this floor; everyone else had been reassigned by the Council. It was quiet.

Lonely.

Rolling her shoulders, she rapped her knuckles against the wood of the door. Short and abrupt. Her hand returned to her side and she waited.

"Open." was the hoarse response after a moment's delay.

Tabaeus turned the knob on the door and pushed it open, though not entering. She hadn't been given permission to enter, just open. In all honesty, she would have preferred not to anyway.

"McCallister." Major General Leonhart greeted shortly, standing over his desk and scribbling on something. "What now?"

Tabaeus tried not to gawk at the mess of the office. Papers were strewn everywhere, and there were stacks of files on the couch and leaning against the desk, taped to the wall, stapled when he ran out of tape. His handwriting scrawled in marker directly on the wall beside the papers.

"File you ordered." She responded curtly.

He gave a half-absent gesture and she stepped into the office, closing the door after herself.

"Sir—" She started.

He took the file from her and flipped it open. The dark circles under his eyes were alarming, like he hadn't slept in days. Probably two weeks.

"Does the Alliance mine silver?" He asked abruptly, not looking up.

Tabaeus was nearly thrown off balance by the question. "Sir?"

"Silver." He looked at her, and the lack of sleep was red rimmed around his eyes. "Is the Alliance involved in the silver market?

Tabaeus racked her memory for any information on it. "They investigated a few deposits in Enchanted Castle, a few caves in Deep Jungle…Nothing worth contributing to the market."

"Where is the silver market?" He asked, turning away from her to spread the file out on his desk, like a splash of paper across the surface.

"I'm…not certain, sir. It's not my area—"

"Find out." He ordered.

"Yes, sir." She involuntarily responded.

He lifted a thick slab of paper sheets held together by a paperclip. He slid the clip off and thumbed through the stack. "Everything points to silver." He muttered to himself, it seemed.

Tabaeus glanced away from him to the wall, to the papers and the notes and the scribbles adorning it like wallpaper. Clearly, this was what he had been up to for the last two weeks.

"What…What points to silver, sir?" She asked.

"The leader of the Fractured Circle is a shapeshifter." He quipped in answer. "I had the hunch, but Kairi's story, your account, and Tifa's eye witness story make it a real theory here."

She looked more closely at the notes, in his familiar tiny, compact handwriting. They were biological notes, scientific scribbles, and random lists of elements from the Scientific Table…Far from his sector of expertise.

"I saw it with my own eyes, sir. I agree with you." She said carefully, suddenly finding herself selecting her words scrutinously.

"The research points to silver…It's the most consistent thing I've found that could kill one." He was saying.

"Kill—I thought shapeshifters were genetically mutant humans?" She looked away from the wall.

"Maybe, but whatever gives this guy the ability to morph his appearance, it might make him invulnerable to certain weapons." He rattled.

"Why?" She said, unable to follow his thought pattern. "What is the basis for—"

He glared hotly at her and she closed her mouth.

He looked terrible.

Tabaeus hadn't directly spoken to him since the incident, but clearly he wasn't taking it as well as she would have hoped…or expected for that matter. This wasn't just work exhaustion. This was…something she knew too well. This was despair.

She hated seeing that on her superior officer.

"Permission to speak freely, sir?" She said quietly.

"Denied." He snapped, moving around his desk and nearly ripping one of the drawers open to pull out the stapler.

Tabaeus pursed her lips and turned back toward the door to let herself out. He didn't call her back and she reached the door, grasping the handle.

She stopped when she heard the stapler smacking away, pinning papers to the wall.

Pain lanced through her chest and made her jaw lock. This was too familiar. It reminded her too much of the Massacre and Sora's behavior preceding the Massacre. She had failed to see what was happening then, to stop what Sora was turning into, what grief and misery had turned him into.

Now she was facing it again?

She dropped her forehead against the door, her eyes burning.

She had forgotten that she wasn't the only one who had been abandoned.

Swallowing hard, she let go of the door knob and turned to look at Major General Leonhart again. He had set the stapler down and was digging through the drawers of his desk again.

"You need to go home, sir." She forced her vocal chords to work.

"Can't." He said absently, moving stuff around in the drawer as he searched for something.

"Duke—"

"She's fine." He cut her off. "Where are the damn staples?"

Tabaeus drew a careful breath, "When was the last time you got any sleep, sir?"

"I'm fine." He shot her an even look.

She straightened at attention with that look, but she couldn't leave now. "Just a few hours—"

"You are dismissed, McCallister." He cut her off again.

"No, sir." She choked on the words.

He straightened, eyes locked onto her now, narrowed. "Private McCallister, you are dismissed." He said, dangerously softly.

Tabaeus fought not to turn around and flee the office. Instead, she lifted a hand toward the wall. "Sir, please. Enough."

He glanced to the wall and back to her. "No, it's not. He's still out there and only by catching him can I fix this…this mess."

"WE as the ALLIANCE will catch him, sir." She said, enunciating clearly. "This is too big for one person."

He kept his eyes on her, moving around the desk, removing the barrier between them. Tabaeus immediately felt her resolve crumbling away faster.

"Just because Sora failed doesn't mean I will." He said slowly, fury in his eyes.

She was getting so tired of every eye looking at her with anger and fury and hatred…It was about to tear her apart.

"Yes you will, sir." She hunched her shoulders defensively.

"What was that?" He took a step closer.

She shrank. "You already are, sir." She kept her eyes on his knees, not daring to look at his face. "And I'm the only one who can see that."

The Major General took a sharp step toward her and Tabaeus involuntarily buckled, dropping her head and lifting her shoulders until they touched her ears, utterly cringing.

"What are you doing?" He growled.

She trembled. "I'm sorry, sir, but I can't…You're…And the wall—It's too much the same and I won't—"

"Stand up." He ordered, but he didn't sound infuriated anymore.

"I'm sorry, sir." She repeated. "But S-Sora did the same thing and he ended up—"

"McCallister—" One of his hands gripped her shoulder.

_The flash of Sora's eyes, narrow and hateful, on her as she confronted him._

_The sizzle across her cheek as his hand slapped her._

_The jerk of her head to the side with the blow._

_The look of utter loathing in his eyes when he left her in Twilight Town._

The images and feelings assaulted her and she jerked away from the Major General's hand as though he'd struck her too. Why not? Sora had. She had stepped out of the boundaries of compliance and submission and look what hand had been dealt to her.

Maybe she did deserve it.

"My apologies." She stammered, staring at the floor. "I'll get back to work now. I'm sorry for intruding—"

"Private McCallister." He sounded different now.

Not angry or pent up or aggressive. Just…tired.

Tabaeus remained defensively stiff as she turned around to face him. He looked confused at her behavior—Well of course he wouldn't understand. He hadn't been there when Sora snapped, when it was all going down. He hadn't been with the Keybearer every single day as he fell into…obsession.

"What are—" he looked her up and down, at her posture. "Are you…scared…of me?"

Funny how utterly surprised he sounded by that.

Was she?

Tabaeus looked at him. "You…you're tired, sir, and—and stressed and—and under a lot of pressure. I'm sorry—"

"So you keep saying." He said, eying her strangely. "But why are you sorry? Why do you keep saying that?"

Tabaeus bit her lip hard and felt her hands sweating. "I'm fine, sir."

When had he turned the tables around on her?

The afternoon sunlight was spilling through the windows, illuminating the information stapled to the wall. The room down in Ansem's office hadn't had windows. She hadn't been able to see what was happening in there. She had been in the dark, blindly following a superior who was losing his grip with reality, on what was right and wrong, what was just and what was revenge. She had allowed herself to put professional, mental, and emotional stock in Sora, and look what it had gotten her.

Now, the only other remaining superior officer that she had any respect for was turning toward that same path, and she was…She was powerless to stop it again. Maybe that's what she did best: disappointed people and let them down. She failed at her job. Sora had made it clear that she had failed at her job, at all of her jobs. Yet she was still helping him.

She was lying to Major General Leonhart's face and plotting behind his back to keep Sora out of the Alliance's crosshairs, and all the while, she was just letting the Major General slide down the same road that Sora had. And the Brigadier General was gone. Just like Sora had left and hurt her, maybe Lockhart had left and hurt the Major General.

"Bullshit." He said quietly.

"You have to stop." Her voice shook as she forced herself to look up at him. "You have to stop this—" She gestured to the wall, "Because Sora did it and I saw him do it and I didn't stop him and he ended up—with the missiles—and I didn't do anything and then he took power and he was out of control and—and I didn't do anything and it's all my fault because—because I didn't do anything." She rambled, unable to stop.

"Whoa, whoa." Major General Leonhart lifted a hand. "That's not—"

She flinched again, hot tears burning at her eyes this time. She dropped her head so he wouldn't see them…What kind of pissant soldier burst into tears when…when she saw her superior officer angry at her? She should just suck it up and get back to work. She had done enough damage by now.

"I'm not going to hit you." He sounded affronted.

"I'm sorry." She choked.

"McCallister—" He grasped her wrist.

"Let go." She pleaded, trying to wriggle out of his grip.

He held onto her. "McCallister, stop this—"

"I'm sorry." The tears broke free. "I should have done something, but—but he was my superior and I couldn't say no—"

"No? No to what?" He snapped.

She cowered. "Then he just kept—losing himself and I didn't do anything because…he sounded right. He didn't sound right, but he made sense and I thought—but I didn't do anything and if I had done something then—then none of this would have happened and she—and the Brigadier General would still be here."

"McCallister, get a hold of yourself." He was saying.

But even Tabaeus could tell she was too far gone. "Let me go, please, sir—please—" She struggled against his hand on her wrist again. "It's a vicious cycle and it's my fault and I just keep—I'm sorry—please, let me go—"

She could feel herself beginning to hyperventilate.

Panic flooded her when he didn't let go of her wrist. She struggled again and turned around as though to pull herself free. Now he knew it was her fault. What would he do? Court marshal her? Slap her? Arrest her? In her frazzled mind, all of these seemed like plausible outcomes. She had no one to turn to. She had put everything into Sora, and he had betrayed her, left her, abandoned her. Now Major General Leonhart was going to do to the same thing…because it was her fault…If she hadn't screwed everything up, then the Brigadier General wouldn't have left and everything would be okay.

Her knees buckled.

"McCallister—" He turned her around, grasping her other shoulder.

Tabaeus lost it.

Rage exploded from her core and she screamed in emotional agony, pulling her wrist free and making a fist. She proceeded to slam the side of her fist against the Major General's chest. Then her other fist. Repeatedly. Her face dropped against his collar and her legs shook.

She didn't deserve this.

She didn't deserve any of this!

Why did it hurt? Why did Sora leave? She didn't deserve to be hated like that. He had used her, used her like some machine or robot, and then he had dumped her on the side of the road when it wasn't convenient for him any longer.

And damn it all the Hell, she was STILL helping him!

The tears flowed then; loud, painful, choking tears broke free from her eyes and she stopped fighting her superior officer, who had been quiet as she lost control. She kept her eyes firmly closed, horrified and broken and hurting and completely lost as to how to fix it.

She couldn't stop Sora. She couldn't stop the missiles. She couldn't stop his quest for vengeance. She couldn't stop his downward spiral. She couldn't stop Lockhart from leaving. And now…it was threatening to happen all over again.

She had power over nothing.

Worthless.

Maybe Sora had been right.

Her legs weren't holding her weight, but she remained upright.

Her heart was hammering in her ears as she gasped for breath and composure.

She wasn't standing on her own.

This feather of a realization broke through the waterfalls of emotion raging in her thoughts. Eyes falling open, she looked down. Though her legs were jelly and numb from the stress and the sheer exhaustion of finally letting it all out, she was still standing, leaning heavily against the Major General, who had put his arms completely around her.

Around…

"I'm sorry—" She stammered, fists dropping to her side weakly.

Major General Leonhart sighed, and she could feel his breath on her hair, as her face was still against his collar. "Shut up, McCallister."

She closed her eyes again, forcing herself to take a deep, steadying breath, until her lungs wouldn't expand anymore. He held her up, for what reason, she couldn't fathom, but the gratitude swelling in her chest threatened to break her composure all over again.

"Breathe." He instructed. It was an order, but it wasn't sharp or angry.

She took another deep breath, her throat hitching in that way that one does while crying. She managed to get her legs to obey and straighten, but they wouldn't take her weight. He didn't let her go, though, so she just kept her eyes closed and tried to keep breathing through this panic attack. Every fiber in her wanted to pull away, but at the same time, she felt herself beginning to relax.

"You have quite an ego, McCallister." He said quietly.

She let her eyes fall open.

"To let yourself believe that everything, all of this mess, is somehow directly your fault…That's a little inflated." He remarked.

Tabaeus blinked and didn't say anything.

"To…to think that there was anything you could have done, if you had done it differently," He continued, though his tone had changed. "there's no sense in that."

She managed to get the blood flow back to her legs and feeling started to return. It almost sounded like he was talking to himself now more than her.

"It's no more your fault than it is mine." He exhaled heavily. "This is above both of our paygrades."

He didn't say anything more for a while, and the office stayed quiet.

Tabaeus stared at the floor, the drying tears on her face leaving a filmy sensation on her cheeks. She had never been this close to her superior before. It sort of alarmed her. This barely crossed her mind when he withdrew, holding her out at arms' length and studying her hard.

"Are you together?" He asked slowly.

The hollows of her eyes and her cheeks still felt moist and filmy, and the cry had been exhausting not to mention mortifying, but it also felt like fifty pounds had been lifted from her shoulders. The darkened patch on his shirt where she'd buried her face attested to that. She exhaled any dignity she had left with this man and looked up at him.

"Yeah…yes…yes, sir." She repeated a few times, pulling herself together.

"Good." He let go of her, letting her stand on her own again. "Now go home."

She blinked. "Sir?"

He crossed back over to his desk, back turned slightly to her as he messed with his files, as though the past ten minutes had never happened. "I can't have soldiers falling apart every day in the office or in the field. You're sleep deprived and stressed."

Tabaeus slowly tilted her head. Was he serious?

"Go home, get some sleep, come back tomorrow with your head on straight." He continued.

"Sir?" She said, voice falling back into evenness.

The Major General straightened and faced her. She pointed at him.

"Pot." She pointed to herself. "Kettle." She put her hands on her hips. "Black."

He mustered up a glare, but Tabaeus found herself oddly immune now that she'd emptied her tear ducts all over his shoulder. He sighed and stopped messing with the papers.

"I know."

That was admission enough.

"I'm leaving after taking this down." He nodded toward the mass of papers stuck to the wall.

"I can—" She started to offer to help.

He lifted a hand. "You're dismissed, McCallister."

This time Tabaeus just nodded, retreating from his office toward the door. She could only hope that his mind was too stretched in every direction for him to bother remembering her moment of weakness.

Maybe it was still possible to retain at least some semblance of her pride and dignity with the Major General.

"Permission to speak freely, sir?" She requested.

They both paused, realizing how stupid that request sounded after what had just happened. Major General Leonhart sighed and gave an open-palmed 'lay it on me' gesture.

Tabaeus swallowed. "The Brigadier General left the Alliance, sir. She…she didn't leave you."

Then again, maybe pride was overrated.

His expression was unreadable, but he gave her a long, hard look.

"Good night, sir." She abruptly turned again and left the office, closing the door swiftly behind her.

Pausing a moment to take a deep breath, she leaned back against the wall and bent forward, hands on her knees. She really did need sleep if her mask of composure was slipping at something so insignificant as a wall.

Then again, the Alliance had kicked Sora out. Sora didn't leave the Alliance.

He had just left her.


End file.
